


A Proud Altmer

by NorroenDyrd



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Altmer Pride, Altmer does not mean Thalmor, Altmer in Skyrim, Anti-Racism, Breaking stereotypes, Culture Shock, Drabble, Gen, Hero of the people, Nord racism, POV First Person, Patriotism, Short One Shot, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:44:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorroenDyrd/pseuds/NorroenDyrd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thoughts of an unnamed Altmer protagonist that is proud of their heritage - and yet, at the same time, does not quite fit the "typical snooty elf" label.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Proud Altmer

I am an Altmer.

And I have never thought being one could be so hard.

In this barren, gale-whipped wasteland, so far away from the gentle turquoise tides and white sands of my fair Alinor, I find myself trapped in an impenetrable cage of hostility with each step that I make. And the cage's bars are made out of unblinking, hostile glares of the local Nords.

Everywhere I turn, I am followed by their eyes, hard and metallic as their weapons and scorchingly cold as the breath of Skyrim's winter. Everywhere I turn, I hear whispers behind my back, rustling like a nascent blizzard that passes its long, wispy fingers against the rock. Everywhere I turn, I am given to understand that I am not welcome here; I am feared and shunned and accused of being a Thalmor spy.

But I refuse to conceal my origins. I refuse to hide my face underneath one of the broad, fur-adorned hoods favoured by the local mages - so that no-one can see my angular face, my pale-gold skin, my inhuman, amber-shaded eyes. I walk the streets of inhospitable Skyrim cities with my head thrown up high, letting the icy wind tug at my loosened hair, and scald my ears, and bite savagely at my cheeks. I do not stoop to pretending I am someone else - because I am proud of who I am.

Yes, I am proud of being an Altmer. And I will say this over and over again. I am proud - but this does not mean that I support the Thalmor government. That I believe it is right to oppress other races, or to purge entire communities just because someone dares to speak their mind. Or that I feel obliged to rub my superiority into the face of every human, Khajiit, Argonian or 'lesser elf' that I meet.

I am proud because my kind have been part of Tamriel's history for millennia. Because we are skilled warriors, craftsmer, scholars, seafarers - and mages. The latter makes my heart soar highest of all.

I am proud of my mastery of the arcane - but my reasons for feeling this way are nothing like the feral elation that overcomes some of my kin while they are watching tiny, frail wooden buildings dissolve into clusters of charred sticks, devoured by the firebolts that they cast... or while they are shooting jagged, blindingly white lightning blasts into the midst of a screaming crowd.

My magic makes me proud because with one sweep of my hand, I can close the wounds of a dying warrior; with one flick of my wrist, I can ease the burden of firewood that presses into the shoulders of an old woman, trudging back to her home from the forest; with one snap of my fingers, I can create a happy, dancing flame to warm the bones of a homeless child. And that - that is the true elven supremacy.


End file.
